


Born For Glory

by Frenchibi



Series: Fics with Pain [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 08:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10184930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi
Summary: A voice, familiar, low, sends his heart thrashing."Tooru?"There's a storm coming, wind building, rustling the leaves of the large apple tree and the hedges of the neighborhood.There's no need for a greeting."...Iwa-chan."





	

**Author's Note:**

> _I'm so tired of feeling sorry - 'cause I know I was born for glory_   
>  _Why would we wait for anyone?_   
>  _I want a[better world](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BKwYqCzjXVA), a better world_
> 
>  
> 
>  _Can you hear the clock, kissing time goodbye?_  
> 
> The closer I get to my deadline, the more I write.  
> ...this is an experiment. It's vastly different from my usual style, and I would love to know what you think of it.

The soft _plick_ of a pebble against his window - quiet and familiar - draws his attention.

The window slides open, upwards, catching on the same spot it always does, small splinter sticking out and pricking his finger.

A voice, familiar, low, sends his heart thrashing.

"Tooru?"

There's a storm coming, wind building, rustling the leaves of the large apple tree and the hedges of the neighborhood.

There's no need for a greeting.

"...Iwa-chan."

But he's not climbing up.

"...do you trust me?"

A glance at his hunched over form, bent so the light from the neighbor's house won't hit him.

Tooru's insides clench.

Duffel bag, a heavy jacket - _it's not that cold._

A grim expression, too, lips pressed into a tight line - eyes pleading.

_Of course. Of course I trust you._

"...what do I need?"

Hajime's eyes widen, just so. Gratitude, resignation - fierce determination.

"Anything you're not prepared to leave behind," he says. Soft.

He lifts his head, ever so slightly, and _light-_

A bruise. Large and angry, across his left cheek.

" _Iwa-chan._ "

"Ten minutes," Hajime breathes. "Hurry. Please."

 

He doesn't ask where they're going.

The truck is parked down the road, but that doesn't mean they won't notice them leaving.

 _Away_ it is, for now, as far as possible.

Away.

There's two bags of supplies at Tooru's feet, bottles gently clicking against each other behind him.

His own duffel bag, pressed against his chest (for warmth? Support? For something to hold on to), and Hajime's, thrown hastily on the seat behind him.

And silence.

He's nervous.

His phone's on his bedside table.

A note on his bed, an apology. Attempted explanation.

Excuse.

"Thank you," Hajime says, the first sound in over thirty minutes, except the engine and the clicking of shifting gears.

Tooru takes his hand and squeezes.

 

They stop at an empty rest area an hour later. Hajime changes the plates.

(He doesn't ask why. There's no need.

He doesn't ask how, either.)

Tooru watches him work, holds up a flashlight, fights the dark, the cold, the hole in his chest.

Hajime's grateful smile isn't enough to fill it.

Maybe it's enough, though, to stop Tooru leaning over the edge, wondering what it'd be like to jump. To let go.

He steps back, closes his eyes.

For a second, he believes they're invincible.

Hajime winces, gets back to his feet. The moment shatters.

Tooru doesn't mention the glimpse he catches of bruises under his shirt. He grips the flashlight harder.

 

After two hours, Tooru stops reading road signs.

 

The storm is catching up. Or maybe, probably, it's a different one altogether.

Rain on the windscreen, louder even than the engine, swallows everything.

Tooru looks up to find Hajime watching him, eyes flicking between him and the road.

"Thank you," he says again.

He's crying.

 

When he pulls over, Tooru knows it can't be long till sunrise.

Hajime drives them into the trees, a little ways off from the highway. It's quiet, calm - but that doesn't mean safe.

He folds back the back seat, as far as it'll go, drags blankets across it, sits down. Eyes on Tooru. (Always, always.)

"I know we can't stay long."

And then, hand outstretched, "...please-"

Tooru climbs over as the car's lights turn off, plunge them into black. Finds Hajime's hand in the dark, and pulls him close.

He doesn't mention the wetness the tears leave on his shirt, the sniffles, the _pain_.

He doesn't say anything.

 

He can't sleep.

Hajime mumbles, fingers clenching into fists, eyes darting side-to-side under closed eyelids.

He's grown accustomed to the dark, able to make out Hajime's silhouette.

He pulls him closer. Hopes his warmth is enough.

He doesn't think about the future.

 

"You didn't sleep."

"We should keep moving."

The sun's starting to rise. He can't have slept more than an hour.

"Tooru."

"I rested my eyes. Let me drive for a bit."

" _Tooru_."

Trepidation rises. _They'll catch up._

"...please, try to sleep. An hour, at least? I'll keep watch."

It doesn't feel like enough.

It should be.

"...okay, Iwa-chan."

"Don't worry."

 

_But how can I not?_

 

_Will our time always be limited?_

 

Tooru wakes to a hand tangled in his hair, gentle movements. Soft. Warm.

Hums, before reality resurfaces.

"Hey."

"...hey."

A gaze that says more than any words Tooru could think of.

He leaves it be.

"We should go."

A sad smile. He feels the apology, shakes his head.

"I've got you, Iwa-chan."

"...okay."

 

"You can sleep, you know."

A non-commital shrug.

"...does it matter? Where I drive?"

_Will it make a difference? We don't have long._

"...remember the cabin? My uncle's?"

Tooru does.

Oh, they're doomed.

Doomed never to last, like this.

"Sleep. I'll get us there."

 

_But how far can we trust...?_

 

"He said to come."

The scenery’s changed.

Tooru keeps his eyes on the road.

"...I thought you're resting."

A shrug, in peripheral vision. "Am. Sort of."

"...we're invited?"

Hard to believe, when you're running from everything.

"... _if you need to get away._ He said."

He surely didn't mean this.

 

But Tooru drives.

 

"Iwa-chan?"

He shakes his shoulder, careful, tentative.

"Mmh...?"

"It's somewhere here, right?"

He's sure they're close.

"Yeah."

And silence, again.

Words are heavy. Useless.

 

The silence is suffocating.

 

He waves Hajime off when he moves to help with the crates.

"Leave them. It doesn't matter."

_Better to be prepared to run again._

Nod. Lift the bags. Breathe.

Hajime slides out a loose stone in the wall. Retrieves the key.

Stops to let Tooru catch up, so they can walk through the door together.

 

He doesn't ask how long.

_Less each passing minute. Cherish every second._

He doesn't ask why now.

_Painted on Hajime's skin in angry blues and purples._

Tooru doesn't ask questions.

He removes the barriers between them, piece by piece, cloth by cloth.

_Cherish every second._

_Time is running out._

Blues and purples turn pink under his fingers, his lips.

_If my love could heal you, you'd never have to hurt again._

 

There is no magic.

No miracles.

No saving them.

_Time-_

 

The cover was dusty, but the sheets are clean.

Thin walls can't keep out the cold.

Their warmth is enough.

Almost.

 

"Run away with me."

A whisper. Hope.

Stubborn.

"...Iwa-chan..."

"You're all I need. They'll never understand it, never."

He must know it's futile.

_Where?_

_Always._

_I'm yours._

It hurts.

 

He can't answer.

The hope in Hajime's eyes fades.

Kills him inside.

 

"...I know this can't last."

Defeated. Small. _Crying, again._

Tooru wants to scream. _No, we're eternal, unconditional-_

But _time._

"I won't ask you to wait, Hajime. To suffer, for me."

_I can't bear to watch._

But.

Time's not just an enemy.

It can be _hope._

"...but I'll run, if you ask. As soon as- as soon as we can."

It can't last, now.

 

It could. In the future.

 

They know their refuge is ending, threat looming, closing in.

"...hold me, for now." _As long as it can last._

How could Tooru say no?

_I'm yours._

_Even if the world wants to crush us._

 

Eventually, the crying fades.

Hajime's weight is familiar, slots into place in his arms, skin on skin.

Makes him believe they're invincible, again.

Affirms what he's always known to be true.

_I'll never love anyone like you._

 

"...Tooru."

_Don't break the spell. It's safe here, hiding from the world._

"...I'll do anything for you. This" - the blues, purples - "is nothing, if- if I get you, in the end."

_I wish you felt differently. Hurt less. Smiled more._

 

_But I could never hate that you love me._

 

_I'm selfish._

 

_You suffer for it._

 

"...say something."

Tooru chokes on tears.

 

"It's not _fair._ "

 

Nothing ever is.

 

They find them, in the afternoon.

Tooru doesn't ask how.

 

The note…?

 

_Give it time._

 

[A memory.

A hand, gripping his wrist, furiously holding on.

"Don't, Tooru, don't, please-"

"They're _hurting_ you-"

"It's still better to stay! Please, please don't get involved. Please. _Please._ "]

 

_You asked me to watch you bleed._

 

[A memory.

"How long- Iwa-chan, I can't-"

"Graduation. Three more months."

_Then we run._

"...please."]

 

And yet, the pebble against his window.

 

"Why are we here?" Tooru asks, as the car pulls up outside.

It's over. It shouldn't matter.

"...I wanted to try, at least once."

"Running?"

"Yeah."

He looks so old, then. So tired.

Pulls him close.

"Should'a known it wouldn't work."

_Oh, but you did. You did, the moment you threw the pebble._

"...do you regret it?"

 

The door opens. Their seconds trickle away to nothing.

"I'd never regret you."

 

_Give it time._

 

_We'll be free._

**Author's Note:**

> ...more of this? Less of this? Talk to me. Please.  
> [Tumblr.](http://frenchibi.tumblr.com)


End file.
